


Go Go Sentai Rikkai Ranger!

by Whisper132



Category: Tennis no Oujisama | Prince of Tennis
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2006-07-25
Updated: 2006-07-25
Packaged: 2017-10-23 15:34:19
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,524
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/251989
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Whisper132/pseuds/Whisper132
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The result of far too many sentai shows and far too much coffee. Alternately, when tennis and superhero shows collide.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Go Go Sentai Rikkai Ranger!

It began as an innocent evening at Marui’s house. He invited Kirihara over because Jackal was out of town and because Kirihara kept complaining that they never spent any time together.

“Whatcha wanna watch?” Kirihara asked, opening a can of ginger soda and sprawling across the floor of Marui’s bedroom.

Marui shrugged. “There’s some sentai reruns. Those’re always good for a laugh.” Marui really enjoyed sentai shows, particularly high-tech ones.

“Mom says I can’t watch those because they’re too violent,” Kirihara grumbled, stretching for the remote. “Let’s do it!”

Half an hour later, Kirihara was practicing poses in front of the mirror. “Do I extend the right or the left hand out?” He turned and posed for Marui. “Is this right?”

Marui held his laughter in and nodded. “Perfect.” Kirihara was ridiculously cute playing sentai in his pajama bottoms and old t-shirt, his hair ruffled from an impromptu wrestling match. Marui was trying to get the remote. Kirihara just happened to have put it in his pants pocket.

“Now you pose, senpai!” Kirihara dragged Marui to the mirror.

With flare borne of long practice, Marui jumped into a wide-legged stance. “Go go sentai, RikkaiRanger! Power up!”

Kirihara’s eyes widened. “Wow! That was awesome! Do it again!”

Marui complied because Kirihara was cute and the incident would never leave the room. If it did, Marui was going to hang himself with his racquet gut.

  
&-&

  
Kirihara narrowed his eyes. Jackal-senpai was standing awfully close to Marui-senpai, even if they were in the middle of playing a game. It was indecent.

He looked at the tennis ball in his hand. Tennis balls were neat things. They flew really fast but wouldn’t kill you, just smart a little. If Sanada-fukubuchou used tennis balls instead of his fist, Kirihara wouldn’t mind the weekly beating so much.

He tossed the ball up and down, testing its weight in his hand.

“Don’t even think about it,” Niou said from behind him.

Kirihara’s fist closed around the ball and he squeezed. “Don’t know what you’re talking about senpai. Don’t think about what?” He knew the innocent act wouldn’t work. Niou was one of three people on the team who believed Kirihara had a brain that worked for more than eating, sleeping, and playing tennis.

“Sanada’s watching. You should wait a bit, then go for it.” Niou was also very wise and understanding.

Kirihara waited while Niou distracted Sanada. When the coast was clear, Kirihara took aim at Jackal, who had his arm around Marui for longer than was necessary for congratulatory purposes, particularly for a practice match. “Super Mega Possessive Boyfriend Attack!” he screamed, letting the ball fly.

It landed ten feet short of its mark and rolled around on the court in a lazy circle.

“Works a lot better if you use the racquet and don’t just throw it,” Niou said, patting Kirihara on the shoulder.

“Akaya,” Sanada said, standing over Kirihara and bathing him in shadow. “That was unacceptable.”

“Sorry fukubuchou.”

“Next time,” Sanada said, pulling a tennis ball from his pocket, “throw from the waist for maximum distance.” Sanada’s eyes narrowed and the air around him stilled. “Sanada Bazooka!” He threw the ball, clocking Renji upside the head. The data tennis player crumpled to the court at Yukimura’s feet. “That is how it’s done.”

  
&-&

  
“It was Yukimura’s idea,” Sanada explained as he and his team strode onto Seigaku’s tennis courts for a weekend practice tournament.

“I see,” Tezuka said, looking everywhere but at Sanada.

Sanada ignored the stares and the slack jaws and removed his racquet from his bag as well as a lineup. “Here are our selections.”

Tezuka continued to stare at the ground. He took the list and studied it with great care. “Inui has our lineup. I will acquire it for you now.”

Akaya bounced up beside Sanada and tugged on his arm. “Fukubuchou! Fukubuchou! Niou-senpai won’t come off the bus!”

“What’s the matter this time?”

Tezuka pretended not to be listening with great interest. It would be rude.

“He’s mad because we made him RikkaiGreen and he wanted to be RikkaiBlue to match his hair.” Kirihara, clad in pink spandex shorts and a pink version of the Rikkai jersey, jumped up and down and pointed to the bus. “Yagyuu-senpai’s going to leave if he can’t play with Niou-senpai!”

Sanada set his shoulders and stalked to the bus. “RikkaiYellow into action, then.”

Tezuka tried not to pay too much attention to the way Sanada’s thighs looked in the yellow spandex shorts. He succeeded in not noticing when Fuji slipped behind him and covered his eyes.

Kirihara snickered. “You’re lucky RikkaiPurple isn’t here, Tezuka-kun. He’d kick your ass.” Kirihara skipped away to the bus.

“Tezuka, you didn’t tell me that Rikkai’d gone insane.” Fuji removed his hands from Tezuka’s eyes. “It does have its merits, though.” Fuji gave Tezuka’s rear a pat. “Think we should wake WonderChibi up before he misses something?”

“No,” Tezuka said, examining Rikkai’s list again. “He’s playing RikkaiPink. I wouldn’t want him thinking he has to compete.”

“I could call my sister and get some tights.”

“No, Fuji.”

“But Tezuka, he’s going to feel inferior.” Fuji patted Tezuka’s shoulder and jogged away. “It’ll only take a moment!”

  
&-&

  
Niou sat on the bus, arms crossed over his chest, slumping into the seat even though it dug into his tailbone. “I’m not going,” he told Sanada, who looked ready to birth a large sea mammal.

“If you do not get off this bus, you will be removed from the team.” It was really hard to take Sanada seriously when he was wearing sun yellow bicycle shorts.

“Big deal. Who’re you going to put in doubles if Yagyuu and I leave? Yanagi and Kirihara?” There, let Sanada chew on that for a few.

“You’re being childish.”

Niou stood and stomped his foot in a very adult way. “I don’t want to be RikkaiGreen! The green one is always the wishy-washy boring one! I’m the clever one! I should be Blue!”

“Yukimura selected your identity with care and consideration. You will respect his wishes.” Sanada’s eyes were glowing a color to match his jersey. “Am I understood?”

“If you’re the leader, shouldn’t you be Red? Red is always the leader.”

Sanada considered for a moment, then shrugged. “It’s as Yukimura wishes.”

“So you’re okay with Yagyuu being the leader?” Niou would’ve settled for being Rikkai Red, anything but Green. Green made him and Yagyuu look like a bunch of Christmas cosplayers. “Can I trade with Marui?” Marui was RikkaiBlack. He said it matched his hair and looked better with Kirihara’s. Kirihara was Yukimura’s favorite, so Kirihara and Marui got whatever they wanted.

“Wear what Yukimura tells you to wear and be thankful you’re on the team,” Sanada said, hands on hips. In that pose, his shirt rode up to his waistband.

Niou’s eyes widened. “Wow Sanada. Is this one of Yukimura’s distraction tactics?”

Sanada pulled his shirt down. “Do not change the subject.” Sanada advanced on Niou and grabbed him by the hair, craning his neck so they were eye to eye. “If you do not obey the rules of the team, I will become upset. Do you want me to be upset?”

“No, Sanada.”

“Good. Get going.” Sanada stalked off the bus, still tugging at his shirt.

Niou snickered, then checked his own shirt. Good, plenty of length. He’d just have to play on the eccentric qualities of the Green instead of the wishy-washy pansy aspects. Sanada was doing fine in his “distraction damsel and negotiator” role.

  
&-&

  
Kirihara stood on the tennis court, racquet tapping on his shoulder. “You look like a girl,” he told Echizen.

Echizen remained silent.

Kirihara stretched, liking the freedom of movement his spandex shorts gave him. He could get really used to this. And he matched Bunta, too, which was the best part. Now everyone would know that the tensai belonged to Kirihara and was absolutely, completely off limits.

Echizen shifted at the baseline, ready to serve, but hesitating.

“Come on, let’s get the game going!” Kirihara wanted to take a team photo before everyone got sweaty and gross and the dye in the uniforms bled. It wouldn’t take much effort to beat Echizen, so he wasn’t worried about his own bleeding. Besides, he made sure he used the good dye, not the cheap stuff, like he used for Yagyuu’s.

“We should reschedule,” Echizen said. “I can’t run in this.”

Kirihara took in Echizen’s red crop top and blue tights. “You’re fine. Serve.”

Echizen stood his ground. “No. We’re rescheduling.”

Kirihara grinned and pointed his racquet. “Afraid you’ll lose?”

“WonderChibi never loses!” Kikumaru called, grabbing hold of the fence with one and shaking the other in a fist in the air. “Get him WonderChibi!”

Echizen’s shoulders dropped.

“Don’t forget your power phrase,” Fuji said, camera poised.

Kirihara made sure his hair was okay and posed. “RikkaiPink into action! Power Up!”

Echizen tossed the ball and, as the racquet impacted, yelled, “Ochibi Twist Serve Attack!”

Kirihara returned the serve. “That was pathetic. Who made up that crap attack name?”

The ball fell in front of Echizen, who looked like he was trying not to cry.

“This is no fun,” Kirihara said, walking off the court. “I demand a new arch nemesis. Fukubuchou! Echizen is crap, can I play The ZoneMaster instead?”

  
&-&

“My ass looks huge in these,” Jackal grumbled. “And I look jaundiced.”

“Being RikkaiAqua is an honor,” Marui said, stretching. “Who we playing?”

“It isn’t an honor. There aren’t any Aqua superheroes. Why couldn’t I get a real color?” Jackal sat down on the court and ran a hand over his head. The smooth feel of it soothed him. “We’re playing Inui and Kaidoh.”

“We didn’t put you in white, did we? That would make your ass look _really_ huge.” Marui checked his watch. “Will they hurry the hell up. My sugar buzz’ll start to fade soon.”

“So you’re agreeing that I have a big ass. Thanks.” Not even the smoothness of his head could sooth Jackal now.

“Mixing pleasure and pain. The Juicer is on the scene!” Inui entered the court, a gold lame cape flowing behind him.

“Hey Jackal, it could be worse. You could look like that.” Marui crooked a thumb over toward Inui, who was posing, and Kaidoh, who was trying not to be noticed.

Jackal ran a hand over his head again. “My ass still looks big, though.”

“Wanna change to RikkaiGold?”

Jackal examined Inui’s cape. “No. No I don’t.”

  
&-&

“Inui-senpai, please stop saying that.” Inui was usually very attractive and very smart. The new juice must be getting to him.

“You don’t need to use my secret identity anymore, Kaidoh. Soon everyone shall know the power of The Juicer.” Inui threw his arms open and laughed. “I’ll create a world of color and beauty.” He reached his hand out. “Come with me, Kaidoh. Come to my magical world.”

“Hey!” Marui called, hand on hip, racquet on shoulder. “We gonna play tennis or what?”

Kaidoh walked to the net and bowed. “I’m sorry, Inui-senpai – “

“The Juicer!”

“ – he’s sick. We forfeit.” The word forfeit tasted like acid on Kaidoh’s tongue.

“The Juicer never accepts defeat! Game on!” Inui served and the ball flew past Kaidoh’s ear, ruffling his hair.

“RikkaiAqua, into action!” Jackal returned the serve. “Powerhouse Mystery Return Technique!”

“Love Cocktail Explosion!”

“Racquet Ball Rendezvous!”

“Hey,” Marui said to Kaidoh. “You wanna get something to eat? I think they’ve got this handled.”

Kaidoh nodded and the two ran off the court, narrowly avoiding another Love Cocktail Explosion.

  
&-&

  
Fuji sat next to Tezuka on the advising bench. “It looks like WonderChibi was unable to fend off RikkaiPink. How sad.”

Tezuka continued to watch the games progress. Inui’s cape was stuck on the net pole after a daring leap to catch the ball. Jackal was now chuckling over Inui’s fallen body. Marui and Kaidoh were nowhere to be found.

On the court next to the doubles-turned-superhero singles game, Kawamura and Yanagi were standing at the net, staring at one another.

“It seems the BurningMan is about to come out,” Fuji said, chuckling in glee.

Tezuka turned to Fuji, which was a mistake. “Fuji, what are you wearing.”

Fuji stood and twirled. “Do you like it? It was my sister’s but she grew out of it.” As Fuji spun, his gossamer skirt sparkled in the sunlight. “Like a mysterious wind, piercing your heart. The Damsel!”

  
&-&

  
“Why aren’t you wearing your suit?” Kirihara asked, running in circles around Tezuka. “You’re the ZoneMaster. Why aren’t you wearing your suit, huh?”

“I do not require a costume,” Tezuka said, dusting off his shirt and stepping onto the court where Sanada was waiting.

“This is gonna be cool,” Marui whispered to Kaidoh through a mouth full of teriyaki beef picked up from a nearby street vendor.

Kaidoh nodded because he was taught not to talk with his mouth full.

“Tezuka! It’s dangerous! Don’t go!” Fuji flew to the court and grabbed Tezuka’s arm. “Don’t be brave on our account!”

“Fuji-senpai is in a dress,” Echizen said. He was back in his uniform and was hugging his jersey to his body. Despite the heat, the collar was completely zipped.

“The Damsel will save you!”

“Where did those flowers come from?” Marui wondered. He looked around until he saw Niou. “No fair contracting out to the enemy!”

Niou pointed across the court to Yagyuu, who was tossing water toward the court and banging an aluminum pan to create thunder noises.

RikkaiYellow needed no catch phrases.

Then, from far off, the sound of wheels turning began to echo.

“Like a thorn in your tongue…”

The wind began to pick up.

“Swifter than the heartbeat of a young lover…”

The sun eclipsed and, when it re-emerged, Yukimura was behind Fuji, a tennis racquet pointed at the tensai’s spine.

“RikkaiPurple, Power Up!”

“Seiichi, you should be resting,” Sanada said, running forward to Yukimura’s wheelchair.

“I couldn’t leave you to fight alone,” Yukimura said, racquet still perilously close to Fuji’s tailbone. "Leave this to me.”

“Fuji, put your uniform back on and go home,” Tezuka instructed. If any of the administration ever saw this, the tennis club would be disbanded.

“It’s a matter of honor, Tezuka. I can’t give in now!” In a flurry of skirts, Fuji leapt away. “Now, the true battle begins!”

Eyes flashing, Yukimura stood from his chair.

“Yukimura!”

“Stay, Sanada. Come Damsel. Today, we finish this!”

As if on cue, rain began to fall from the cloudless sky.

“Another day, then, Damsel!” Yukimura went back to his wheelchair.

“I await that day, RikkaiPurple.” Fuji’s eyes slowly slid closed again.

“I wanna go home now, fukubuchou,” Kirihara said, running for the bus. The rest of the team followed.

“Come Sanada,” Yukimura called as he wheeled himself to the bus. “We must talk.”

Sanada nodded and, after a bow to Tezuka, ran for the bus.

“That was a lovely afternoon,” Fuji said, grabbing hold of Tezuka’s arm. “Ne Tezuka, let’s take the team for pizza.”

Tezuka’s eyebrow twitched and he nodded because, though Fuji was small, his grip was already cutting off the circulation to Tezuka’s arm.


End file.
